Here is What Cancer is, By the Way.

I have to point out this article (and its multimedia incarnation online) from the June 23 issue of Newsweek. The article is cowritten by Robert A. Weinberg - a name I knew sounded familiar to me - the author of One Renegade Cell, one of the books on my reading list. And frankly, after reading this article, I'm not sure I even need the book (but of course I will). This article gives a great, concise, easy to understand introduction to what cancer is, how it starts, and the lifestyle choices that are in our control to lessen our chances of getting it.

One of my initial motivations for starting this blog was that I, a passionate cancer advocate, could not answer this simple question: What is cancer?

I'm getting there though, and I could probably explain it myself, because for such a complex disease, it starts quite simply - but I'll leave it to Dr. Weinberg this time:

"All tumors begin with one renegade cell [and yes, quoting his own book title is what led me to realize who he was]. Initially the cell is just one of about 30 trillion or so in the body. It looks no different from the cells around it, and, like those cells, it divides only if the organ it's part of needs it to divide. Then, even though the organ around it has enough cells, the renegade cell begins to multiply uncontrollably: one cell becomes two, two become four, four become eight, until the descendants are beyond counting."

It sounds so simple, doesn't it? No wonder Nixon declared the War on Cancer in 1971 - a disease that starts with just one stupid, ugly, mutant cell with a bad attitude should be easy enough to cure, right?

Yeah, not so much.

So what can we do, Dr. Weinberg? He says we can stop smoking (duh), eat foods that don't have a bunch of creepy chemicals in them (duh), and get off our butts on a regular basis (duh). This is not news to me, and it's probably not news to you. But apparently Americans can't hear this enough - our most present cancers (breast, colon, prostate) occur at a fraction of our rate in other parts of the world.

This article may not be groundbreaking, but I sure hope a lot of people read it. If my cancer reading has taught me anything, it's that this disease has a nasty way of striking at random and without bias. But there are fundamental things we can do to prevent cancer - and it goes without saying that we need to be doing them.

I suppose I won't be going out for fish 'n chips for dinner after all.

More Boobs! (A Book Review: Part II)

Now that I have slept on Bathsheba's Breast - or, well, on my thoughts about this book, I mean - I have come to the conclusion that, although it is not an easy read, this is a truly remarkable book. And I might be a little oversensitive because a) I am a woman with breasts, and b) I take my cancer reading very personally. So there. I admit it.

When I go back through the notes I took on each chapter of this book and attempt to digest everything I learned, I am almost overwhelmed with knowledge and awareness. I feel that now I have a solid knowledge of the history of this disease and also an awareness of the bigger picture: how breast cancer has evolved from being the original cancer, the only one known for generations because it could be seen without an x-ray or an autopsy, to setting the standard for cancer research, treatment, awareness, and advocacy. Olson covers this evolution in depth, and although he chronologically bounces around a bit, his efforts are fairly extraordinary.

In an attempt to be fairly concise... here are some very valuable things I learned from this book (with links to Wikipedia if you're interested):

• Breast cancer has taken the lives of countless notable women, from Theodora (wife of Justinian I) to Adolf Hitler's mom to Linda McCartney.
• Hippocrates named cancer for "karkinos" or "crab" because tumors seemed to have tentacles that resembled crabs' legs.
• Mastectomies were being performed in Germany as early as the 1600s! Yikes.
• And these surgeries were performed without anesthesia - that didn't come into the picture until 1846.
  
• William Steward Halsted invented the radical mastectomy (removal of breast, axillary bodes, both chest muscles in a single en bloc procedure - I didn't know what it was, either) in the 1880s. He was also a coke addict. Oops.
• By the mid-1950s, a variety of surgeries were being used on women, sometimes in succession, with each being more gruesome than the last. Needless to say, faith in doctors and science at this time was very, very high.
• Radiation also came into use in the 50s and 60s - but mortality rates for each of these treatments (radiation, radical surgery, lumpectomy, etc.) were similarly high.
• This is gross: due to the high mortality rates, every country except for the US opted for the less invasive treatments. American surgeons (most of whom were male) were the last to cling to the radical mastectomy.
• Luckily, the feminism movement gained momentum in the 60s, and empowered women were on a roll by the time Nixon announced the "War on Cancer" in 1971.
• Women like Shirley Temple Black, Happy Rockefeller, and Betty Ford started speaking out about their diagnoses in the 70s. Amazing and so brave.
• Rose Kushner was an incredible cancer advocate who took control of her diagnosis and treatment. Her courage paved the way for other women to have more control over their treatment options. Kushner was diagnosed in 1974 and died in 1990.
• Ruth Handler, the inventor of the Barbie doll, lost one breast to cancer in 1970, and the other in 1989. She started a breast prothesis company and was another incredible advocate.
• Breast cancer has been riddled with controversy for decades, but the disease has made its way into mainsteam consciousness, which ultimately bodes well for the cause.

Phew! And there is more where that came from. A highly recommended read indeed. I just hope that someday a book with this depth and detail will be written about colon cancer.

Boobs Boobs Boobs (A Book Review: Part I)

One of the greatest accomplishments of the breast cancer movement (besides, you know, the gazillions of dollars that have been raised for research, the groundbreaking treatments that have emerged, and the tens of thousands of lives that are being saved as a result) is that people are no longer embarrassed to talk about boobs.

I have participated in many breast cancer race events in New York City, and I remember the last time seeing a group of women walking the race course wearing hats in the shape of bared breasts - yes, naked boobs, nipples and all. How great is that?

Part of me is envious of this movement, I have to say. Only because colon cancer is my own personal cause, to which I owe my life's greatest heartbreak, and I want people talking about butts the way they talk about breasts. I think this is happening, slowly but (I hope) surely. The Colon Cancer Alliance is starting a race event called the Undy 5000, in which participants are encouraged to run/walk in their underwear. I think this is pretty genius and I hope the event will go far in getting people comfortable talking about butts and cancer. The less fear we have in addressing these topics, the more empowered we become.

But back to boobs.

Bathsheba's Breast, by James S. Olson, was the second book in my cancer curriculum. Compared to One in Three, this read was a little harsh. If Adam Wishart had been holding my hand as I tiptoed into the acquisition of some solid knowledge about this disease, then Olson threw me into an ice bath. That's not to say I did not enjoy the book - in fact I learned a great deal from it - but it was a toughie.

Reading this book, especially as a woman, felt at times like having a male doctor with little bedside manner. Olson talks about horrible breast tumors and surgeries as if discussing a baseball game. It's gruesome stuff and he makes no apologies for that. That being said, it also gives what I have to trust is a realistic account of the toll this disease took on women hundreds (and, indeed, thousands) of years ago, which is key to truly grasping how far we have come in treating cancer. I just had to read the book in smallish doses because of its graphic nature. But ultimately, Olson sets an example for the rest of us to not be afraid to talk about cancer.

In fact, the book begins with a discussion of his own cancer - a sarcoma in his arm that recurred while researching and writing Bathsheba's Breast. Olson lost his left arm to cancer, and says, "Although I know nothing of what it is like to lose a breast, I do understand... the anxiety of confronting one's own mortality, and the trauma of saying goodbye to a body part."

Heavy stuff. And in the interest of small doses, I will continue the review tomorrow...

Cancer Quote Friday!

As we greet another fabulous Friday, with brains fried by the week and flitting toward the weekend, it is my pleasure to offer someone else's wisdom for your consideration.*

"Cancer is a stubborn disease, revealing its secrets grudgingly, and scientific progress is measured in inches, or better yet, in extra days survived. In a country conditioned to extraordinary success - to conquering the wilderness, to winning wars, to putting men on the moon - a country where most people count on getting their own way, cancer's intransigence bears witness to human frailty. "

- James S. Olson, Bathsheba's Breast: Women, Cancer, and History

Book review coming next week!

*Read: I may or may not be feeling too lazy to write my own post. I think I will stick with this theme for Fridays from now on...

First Attempt at the Big Cancer Picture

So I just spent way too much time this afternoon creating a cancer timeline in Microsoft Paint that is really hard to read. Oops. But I am going to publish it anyway! This was my understanding of what I am calling the Big Cancer Picture (how it started, how treatments began and have developed, the roots of cancer advocacy, etc.) after reading

One in Three. So, get out your microscope, and without further adieu...

P.S. It's legible if you click on it! Cheers!

I'm back!

Yay.

So, today I interviewed for a huge-ass scholarship at the Uni where I will be starting my MBA in the fall. Leading up to this interview I had to do a lot of thinking about my volunteer work as a cancer advocate, among other things, and it was great to reconnect with that part of myself. I feel reinvigorated, and after what has been kind of a crazy time I am ready to get back into my cancer research (I always get a kick out of calling it that, because I could not be LESS of a scientist…) and thus will be posting more often starting… Now.

My Nerdy Cancer Reading List

So here is my reading list. A work in progress. I had polished off a few of these books before starting this blog, and will post on them in the order in which I read them. And if it seems like I am not the fastest reader... well, two things: a) I hope that keeping this blog motivates me to be a little more productive, and b) reading about cancer is an intense experience for me, so I intersperse these cancer books with lighter pleasure reading. So there!

Will update this list as I read and inevitably acquire more books (I am a big nerd, after all)...

Bibliography	Date started	Date completed
Wishart, Adam, One in Three (Grove Press, 2007)	15 February 2008	19 February 2008
Clinton, Bill, Giving (Alfred A. Knopf, 2007)	December 2007	26 February 2008
Olson, James S., Bathsheba's Breast: Women, Cancer & History (The Johns Hopkins University Press, 2002)	27 February 2008	14 March 2008
Davis, Devra, The Secret History of the War on Cancer (Basic Books, 2007)	10 April 2008
Patterson, James T., The Dread Disease: Cancer and Modern American Culture (Harvard University Press, 1989)
Weinberg, Robert A., One Renegade Cell: How Cancer Begins (Basic Books, 1998)
Kedrowski, Karen M. and Marilyn Stine Sarow, Cancer Activism: Gender, Media, and Public Policy (University of Illinois Press, 2007)
Greaves, Mel, Cancer: The Evolutionary Legacy (Oxford University Press, 2000)
Pochapin, Mark Bennett, M.D., What Your Doctor May Not Tell You About Colorectal Cancer (Warner Books, 2004)
Pesmen, Curtis, The Colon Cancer Survivors' Guide: Living Stronger, Longer (Tatra Press LLC, 2005)
Lendrum, Susan and Gabrielle Syme, Gift of Tears: A Practical Approach to Loss and Bereavement Counselling (Routledge, 2004)
Nettleton, Sarah, The Sociology of Health and Illness (Polity Press, 2006)
Lyss, Alan P., MD; Humberto M. Fagundes, MD; Patricia Corrigan, Chemotherapy & Radiation for Dummies (Wiley Publishing, Inc., 2005)	Ongoing - reference
Sarg, Michael J., MD and Gross, Ann D., MA, The Cancer Dictionary, Third Edition (Checkmark Books, 2007)	Ongoing - reference

What the heck am I doing here?

Well well well. This has been a long time in the making.

I have thought about blogging for the past number of years. My friend Sarah and I wanted to start a celebrity gossip/social commentary blog because we think the emails we send back and forth to each other with our cheeky comments about celebrities' latest career forays and flops, wardrobe malfunctions and/or general lack of fashion sense, accidental pregnancies, accidental marriages, etc., are quite clever. If we do say so ourselves. I have wanted to start other blogs too. I write in journals a lot, so of course I have thought about writing online instead. When I moved to London last January with my boyfriend, I came thisclose to starting a blog about our life here, and balked.

What has stopped me each time? The audience factor. Sarah and I came to the realization that we think our emails are so hilarious because they are full of inside jokes that crack up us and us alone. I don't necessarily want total strangers reading my personal journal entries, and at the same time have a fear that nobody would. Same with the London blog-that-never-was: what if none of our friends or family read it? What if no one was interested? Because surely, at the heart of every blog entry everywhere, is a desire to connect. A hope that what you write will engage someone else on some sort of level that will enrich the experience for both reader and writer.

So what finally motivated me to join the zillions of bloggers out there? What the heck am I doing here and what do I hope to accomplish with Cancer Nerd?

Some quick background information on me and my experience as a cancer caregiver and advocate: My stepdad John was diagnosed with colon cancer in 2002, and died 20 months later. He was 64 years old. Although I did not realize it at the time, I became an advocate the day the disease crashed into our lives with his diagnosis. Since John's death, I have become increasingly active in colorectal cancer advocacy. I fundraise for and run a fabulous race every year in Central Park, the Colon Cancer Challenge. From May 2006 until I moved to London in January 2008, I was the coordinator of the New York City chapter of the Colon Cancer Alliance (CCA), a wonderful advocacy and support organization. I want to get the word out there so that people know they need to be screened for this disease, and then actually follow through with their appointments. Even though colon cancer ran in John's family, he procrastinated about getting a colonoscopy until it was too late. A great man's life was cut short, leaving my mom and me heartbroken. No one should have to experience such a thing if it can be avoided. And with colon and other cancers, I have learned, it often can.

I want to help get a message out to caregivers too. I want those who are thrust into the heartwrenching role of caring for a sick loved one to know that it is ok to ask questions, to do research, to understand what is happening. When John was sick, I felt helpless. I didn't realize I could have asked his doctors why they were choosing specific chemotherapy drugs, or why they did not operate. I could have asked if there were any clinical trials available. I could have picked up a book or Googled "colon cancer" to understand what and where a colon is, and how and why they become infested with cancerous cells and tumors. Some people don't want to know. And that's ok too. But I did, and I didn't do anything about it. Well, I am now.

Being a cancer awareness advocate has made two things crystal clear to me: first, that I want to devote my life to cancer advocacy; and second, that I have a lot to learn. The members of my CCA chapter, most of whom are survivors with incredibly inspirational stories to share, would chat about different drugs and treatments, ostomies, surgeries, even body parts with which I was totally unfamiliar. At the time, I had a full-time job in addition to my volunteer work with CCA and other non-profit organizations, and in my downtime I preferred to watch "Dancing with the Stars" or read PerezHilton.com or smooch my boyfriend than Google "iliostomy" or "Erbitux" or learn about the four stages of cancer. But then I left my job to move across the pond to be with my boyfriend and, as my mom says, "take a swim in Lake Me." I am currently in the fortunate position of being unable to obtain a work visa, and I have been accepted to an MBA program that starts in the fall. So for now, I am on a pontoon boat out in the middle of Lake Me, with a giant stack of cancer history and science books for company.

I have become a total cancer nerd with a voracious appetite to learn everything I can about this horrendous disease. I want to know what it is, where it comes from, how it develops. I want to know why some people beat it and others don't. I also want to learn about the history of cancer advocacy. Who were the pioneers, who declared the "War on Cancer" and how have we not won it yet? Are we still at war at all?

As I plow through the books weighing down the bookshelves of our tiny house in London, I will post about them. I watched the PBS special "The Truth About Cancer" last night (thanks to the miracle of modern technology that is the Slingbox, I can watch my mom's TV in New York on my computer here in London) and it wrecked me and I need to explore why, so I'll write about that too. I'm not here to offer medical advice or even particularly well-written prose. I'm here for myself with a faint - but strong - glimmer of hope in my heart that my being here might help someone else.

My highest and dearest hope for this blog is this: at some point, someone who is currently coping with cancer in whatever capacity will stumble upon this humble little blog and see a post that, for whatever reason, will help them. Maybe they are looking for a good cancer history or basic science book to read. Maybe they want to know about some organizations that are making great strides against this disease. Maybe they just need to know that they are not alone.

You're not. And, apparently, neither am I.